The Sister Read Online Free PDF Page A

her bed. She resigned herself to a past she couldn't alter, and she looked at ways she might bring about a change in the future.
    It came to her suddenly. To do that, she would have to be outside, and in order to do that , she'd have to cover herself up completely during the day. Mostly she would go out at night while the rest of the house slept. It was on one of those nights that she wandered down to the beach. The sea was speckled, flecked with silver moonlight. It was then she saw it for the first time. Sitting amongst the millions of other stones on the foreshore, it glowed, its blackness exposing it just as surely as if it were white. Vera stooped to pick it up. At first, she thought it must be a black marble. She knew straight away that it was unlikely to be glass because although perfectly spherical, it had the heavy weight of some type of metal. Even at her tender age, she knew that the chances of such an object occurring naturally, would be almost non-existent.
    She held it up in front of her, between her thumb and forefinger, amazed that such a relatively small thing, when placed at a precise point in her line of sight, could eclipse the silvery orb. For a fleeting second, she had the feeling that the world was within her grasp. Celestial light seemed to lay a pathway across the water to where she stood. Vera remained spellbound, giddy and incredibly light on her feet, until a passing cloud broke the spell and allowed the return of her senses. In that moment of insight, she understood that by altering her perspective on life, by moving her standpoint, she could make herself bigger in the overall scheme of things.
    She'd seen a way into the future, a way to make things safe, to put things right: she'd seen the difference she could make. All she needed to do was work out how. The stone in the palm of her hand, blacker than black, held the moon in miniature, and reflected it in the curves of its own dark skies. She felt like an astronaut looking down from outer space onto a distant world. The night never felt fresher or more alive, than it did for her then.
    There's something special about this stone . . . At only thirteen years of age, she had all the time in the world to find out what it was.
    She closed her hand over it and slipping it into her pocket, turned, and started the long walk home.
     
     
    The following Thursday, Mrs Flynn announced, "We're going to Mass this Sunday, come hell or high water," she paused, expecting resistance. "So, it's the confessional for you tonight."
    "What for, Ma? I've done nothing wrong."
    "I know that child. It's just that you've not been to confession since I don't know … a long time now. I'm wondering if it might help with things, you know…" She took Vera's hands in hers. "And I want God's light to shine for you; you've spent so much time out of the light of day. I'm afraid that the darkness might take you."
    Vera didn't respond.
    "We'll go tonight. It's Father O'Malley. I always feel more cleansed when I confess to him, more so than the other one…" she snapped her fingers several times in quick succession, "What's his name, I can't for the living bejesus, think what it is … can you Vera?"
    At last, Vera answered. "It's Father Hughes."
     
     
    The church sat in the middle of a graveyard surrounded by dry-stone walling, its windows half -aglow with dim light.
    Mrs Flynn pulled the door, and it creaked open. There were already almost a dozen people lined up along the front pew awaiting their turn. For some of them, it was a chance to socialise while they waited, and they whispered among themselves in hushed tones.
    Vera sat one place from the end of the seat, leaving a space for her mother.
    On the bench, the other women had perfected the art of speaking so no one else could make out what they were saying; the odd word was recognisable, but with no context, the rest was meaningless.
    Vera's mother would go in after her, and she was already running through the little things